Comfort Food
by She Who Shall Go Nameless
Summary: When Shane learns of Mitchie's deception, Brown gives him the day off from camp activities. Mrs. Torres helps him in more ways than one when he visits the kitchens. Smitchie and flufferyish!


**Honestly, I didn't like this movie (don't own it either, btw) but this dang plot bunny wouldn't go away so here it is. It may not be good; I myself hate the ending, but please review because I, like all authors, like reviews no matter how much they hate their own stories. And yes, I am crazy enough to use High School Musical lyrics at the beginning of a Camp Rock fic! RISKY!!**

**Here we go!**

_I swore I knew the melody  
That I heard you singing  
And when you smiled, You made me feel  
Like I could sing along!_

_But then you went and changed the words  
Now my heart is empty.  
I'm only left with used-to-be's  
And once upon a song._

Shane was heartbroken. That was the only word for what he was feeling at the moment. There was a dull ache in his chest and he felt every beat of his heart as if a cheese grater was rubbing methodically against his heart. He felt like he could have curled up under the comforter, never mind that it was almost eighty degrees out, and sleep for about forty years. Cruelly, this was an impossibility. He saw her face behind his closed eyelids and he had to get up soon to teach his classes.

He did the only thing that he could remember how. He grabbed his guitar and headed out for the pavilion. He lightly strummed a slow, sad tune. He didn't know the words, but he rather thought that he might start crying if he tried to sing at all. And Shane Graye did _not_ cry.

As the mess hall behind him filled with happy campers, his mind drifted again. Who could his mysterious singer be? Almost all the girls in camp had sung for him, and he knew they weren't right. That pretty much left only Caitlyn, Tess, Peggy, and … her.

Shane considered the last person on his list. Wouldn't it just be cruel if she was the one? And yet, the song he had heard fit with what he'd seen of her personality … if that was who she really was. As for the others … Caitlyn did not really sing, that he knew of. Tess definitely sang, but he found that he really dreaded the possibility of her being his mystery girl. She was shallow, mean, and self-absorbed. Not the type to sing such a sincere song. As for Peggy … he knew nothing about her. She might be, but then she might not.

Breakfast had been over for about five minutes when Brown invited himself over and plopped down in the seat next to him. Shane pretended he wasn't there. He didn't want to go crying to his uncle. Not when he knew he didn't really deserve the man's kindness.

"What exactly happened last night?" Brown asked gently, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his legs in a comfortingly normal position. Shane swallowed. There was a dry, painful lump in his throat. The fact that his uncle still cared enough about him to ask after what happened almost made him break down. Still, he managed to sound the part of an angry teenager as he forced out a single, terse word.

"Nothing," he replied, barely feeling the weight of the lie. He didn't want to talk about it. He couldn't.

"It didn't look like nothing to me," Brown continued in that patient, soothing voice. "You looked crushed. _Pummeled._"

Shane tried to find his infamous attitude and tell his uncle off. He couldn't do it. The dismissive words were on the tip of his tongue. _I'm just going to concentrate on my music._ He opened his mouth and they stuck in his throat. It was impossible for him to act like he didn't care. He did care, and far too much. He hated her all the more for it. Finally, he choked out, "I've got a class."

He stood to leave but Brown was faster. He placed a hand on Shane's shoulder and held him in his chair. "Never mind that. Have the cook get you some comfort food. Just relax and work on your music. Classes will still be there tomorrow."

Shane wanted to say no. He wanted to yell and scream that he couldn't just sit there eating chocolate and moping like some _girl_. He just did not have the energy. Instead, he watched Brown leave to go to his class, then slowly made his way inside.

The kitchen was exactly the way he remembered if from his first trip there, when he had talked to a girl—probably _her_, he realized dispassionately—who had been covered in flour. This time, the only person there was Mrs. Torres. She took one look at his disheveled appearance and sat him down at the counter, proclaiming, "You need shortcake!"

In about two seconds, almost literally, Shane was staring down at a huge bowl of some kind of desert biscuit heaped with strawberries and whipped cream. "Eat," Mrs. Torres commanded gently. Shane took a bite, and immediately felt better. It was possibly the most heavenly thing that he had ever tasted. She shoveled down a few more spoonfuls of the sweet food and looked over at Mrs. Torres. He was startled to find that she was looking at him as well.

"So," Shane began, the old bite creeping back into his tone. "Did you just have a bunch of strawberry shortcake sitting around?"

Mrs. Torres smiled gently and looked around the kitchen. "Heavens no! I made it last night for Mitchie when Caitlyn brought her in here, sobbing. I've never seen her so upset. It was worse than her first period! Sorry, too much information?" she asked obliviously, noticing the expression of distaste on Shane's face.

"A little," he admitted, smiling stiffly. He seemed to have forgotten how to do it. His face darkened, however, as he thought of what else she had said. "What does she have to be upset about?" he asked angrily, his hand clenching around the spoon in his hand and turning white from the pressure.

"Well," Mrs. Torres began quietly, "Don't tell her I told you; it would totally be a violation of the 'cool mom' rule. All Mitchie could say last night was that she never wanted to lie to you. She lied about me because she got intimidated by that Tess girl. But Shane," she said even more quietly, forcing his chin up so that he was meeting her eyes. "She wasn't nice to you because you were famous. She could care less about parties or free stuff. She hung out with you because she likes you as a person. Not a famous person, just Shane. Cook's honor."

Mrs. Torres swiped at the lone tear that cascaded down his cheek, patted his cheek comfortingly, and sped off to work on her special themed lunch. Shane dabbed at his eyes with a paper napkin and heaved a shuddering breath. He didn't even know why he was crying, but it was a relief for the dam of emotion inside of him to finally be broken.

When he was finished, he could think a lot clearer. He didn't want to lose Mitchie's friendship if what Mrs. Torres said was true, and he did not think that she was lying. He checked his watch and saw that there was still almost a half an hour until Mitchie's class would let out. In the meantime, he would finish his strawberry shortcake and the hot chocolate that Mrs. Torres had set out while he was crying.

He was almost finished with the delicious food (he had a lot more appetite now) when Mrs. Torres spoke up again. "By the way, have you found your special girl yet?" she said in that somewhat embarrassing way moms tend to talk when they know that their child has a crush on some other kid. Even so, she kept her eyes on the hamburgers that she was molding into little microphones.

"Not yet," Shane replied confidentially. "But I can't get her song out of my head."

"Well, let's hear it!" Mrs. Torres exclaimed enthusiastically, and Shane briefly dwelled on the fact that Mitchie had an awesome mom. Then he realized that she wanted him to sing.

"Okay …" he started nervously. "_This is real, this is me, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be now! I'm gonna let the light shine on me!_" he sang with gusto until he realized that Mrs. Torres had stopped dead and was staring at him. "What?"

She didn't answer; she simply stripped off her plastic gloves and reached into her pocket for a yellow packet of papers. She handed them to him and he felt a thrill. She felt as if she had just handed him the answer to all of life's questions, and now he had only to open it up and see. He turned the packet over and his heart nearly stopped.

MITCHIE'S SONGS. Now his heart was racing and it felt like there were little birds fighting to get out of his stomach. He looked up at Mrs. Torres, who simply smiled, and then opened the small booklet with trembling fingers.

There it was. The song that had haunted his every waking thought for the entire summer, written by the girl whom he had never expected to befriend.

"I have to go!" he almost shouted, jumping up and grabbing his guitar case. He ran through the empty camp until he got to where he knew her class was. His heart was so full that he didn't even feel the pain of his sharp breath from running through the entire camp.

Her class was just letting out and he could see her clearly at the back of the group with Caitlyn. He didn't hesitate. He completely ignored the collective sigh that went through the crowd as he pushed his way through all of the annoying teenage girls to get to the only one who mattered. He grabbed her hand and started to pull her away from the crowd, his only explanation a quick, "I need to talk to you."

They went along at a quick pace until they were good and alone, well out of earshot of anybody who might want to listen in. Shane turned to his newfound 'Mystery Girl' and was about to speak when she cut him of.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I lied to you; I lied to _everyone_! And it was so wrong. And I hate myself for all the pain I caused you and my mom and anyone else who was hurt by what I did. I let Tess scare me and as a result, others ended up paying. And they didn't deserve that. _You _didn't deserve that. No matter what the media says, you're a good person and it's not fair that stupid people like me should hurt you. But I want you to know that I lied about my family, but everything else I said to you was true. I _would_ buy that song. And I _do_ like you for you, Shane. You're witty, and smart, and you really care about your music, and, I'm so sorry. I understand if the answer is no, but do you think you could possibly forgive me?"

Mitchie looked like she was ready to cry, and Shane did what he had wanted to do ever since he had left the kitchens. He took her face in his hands and kissed her sweetly, lingeringly on the lips. Fireworks exploded in both of their stomachs. They broke apart after a minute in which time stood still. Now there really were tears falling from her beautiful eyes, and he wiped them away.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. She smiled and placed her hand on top of his, which was still on her cheek.

"I just—I was so afraid that I had lost you as a friend…" she admitted, hiccoughing and smiling a little.

"Nah," Shane murmured comfortingly back. "Your mom gave me strawberry shortcake and some good advice. And this," he added, freeing one of his hands and reaching for her songbook in his back pocket.

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was holding. "Why—"

"She asked me about my mystery girl and I started singing her song. _This is real, this is me, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be now…_" he sang softly, and watched delightedly as she blushed the most beautiful shade of red that he could imagine. "So she gave me your songbook, Mitchie. You're the girl."

She looked up at him, still blushing, and took the songbook out of his hand. "So, what now?"

"Well," Shane began, putting his arm around her as a feeling of contentment stole through his body. "I'd really like to kiss you again, if that's okay, and then maybe we could take a canoe ride later."

Her grin lit up her whole face and sent his heart racing again. "Sounds awesome," she said enthusiastically, and he leaned down to kiss her again.

He'd have to remember to thank Brown for making him take the day off. It had turned out better than he'd ever imagined and now he not only had his friend back, but his mystery girl was finally found as well. As he kissed them both, as they were one and the same, he rather thought that there should be dramatic music playing in the background. He smiled against her lips, feeling the guitar against his back and knowing that that could be arranged.

_Got my six string on my back  
Don't need anything but that  
Everything I want is here with me (here with me)  
So forget that fancy car  
I don't need to go that far  
What's driving me is following my dreams, yeah_

He wrapped an arm around Mitchie's waist, knowing that this was the best summer he'd ever had at Camp Rock.


End file.
